


something to believe in

by worstgirl



Series: newsies/bmc [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Arguments, First Kisses, Gen, M/M, Mentions of anti-Semitism, Rated for swearing, christine is a big human rights activist, deere, dillinjer - Freeform, jakemy, mentions of internalized homophobia, newsies au, use of the q slur a few times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstgirl/pseuds/worstgirl
Summary: the world finds ways to sting youthen one day, decides to bring yousomething to believe in~~~the rooftop scene, but gayer.
Relationships: Christine Canigula & Jake Dillinger, Jake Dillinger/Jeremy Heere, Jeremy Heere & Christine Canigula
Series: newsies/bmc [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689865
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	something to believe in

Jeremy was bad at handling a bunch of teens on a good day. Usually, he had someone to help him do damage control with the Manhattan newsies at the very least, but now Christine had disappeared to god knows where and Jake— he didn’t want to think about Jake, that cocky little traitorous son of a— 

He took a deep breath. Just breathe, Jeremy, and it’ll all turn out fine. It wouldn’t. The strike was the one thing that had given him purpose. No,  _ Jake  _ was. And now he was a greedy asshole who just wanted money. 

Michael had told him to let Jake be, to not deal with him, but Jeremy was pissed. Who the hell gave him the right to give up on the strike that he had organized? Reyes’ money? No, it was Pulitzer’s. Of course he was nothing but a good for nothing scab, why wouldn’t he be?

Which was why he cornered Specs in the lodging house. The girl had taken her hair out of her cap for once, and she looked up at him with an odd expression on her face. “No.”

“You didn’t even listen to what I was going to say.” Jeremy muttered, looking at the girl with a frown. 

Specs tossed down a few pieces of concrete the group was using as betting chips for poker into the middle of the circle. “You want to know where you can intercept Jake so you can yell at him.” 

“How—“ Jeremy started, before he was interrupted. 

“Just ‘cause you got Richard Conlon to join the strike by yellin’ at him doesn’t mean anything. This is Jake we’re talking about, yellin’ at him is just gonna get you punched.” 

“Good, that means I can punch him back.” Jeremy muttered, trying to ignore the look of polite disbelief on the girl’s face. Which, honestly, was fair. Jake was taller and broader than him, and Jeremy did kind of look like an overgrown weed. “You know where he goes, I don’t.”

Specs looked at him, before sighing, handing her cards to Romeo, who was sitting along the edge of the circle. “Don’t make me lose, Jared.” 

“His name ain’t actually Romeo?” Jeremy asked, blinking a bit as they walked away from the circle. 

“No? Just like my name ain’t actually Specs.”

“No, I— I figured that one. I mean, whose parents hate them enough to name their kid Specs?”

“Well, considerin’ my parents named me Alana, I’d rather be called Specs.” Specs muttered, pushing open the back door to the lodging house, pointing up at the fire escape. It was rusty and rickety, but seemingly sturdy enough. “Get up there, I ain’t gonna be the one fixing your busted lip.”

Jeremy paused, looking up at the roof, looking over at the girl for a moment. “Thanks, Specs.” He said, a bit awkwardly, before starting to climb the creaking ladder. He found himself on the top of the fire escape, close enough to the roof to climb up onto it if he used the railing. Thankfully, no infuriating boy was there.

There were two sets of blankets, one of which didn’t look like they’d been used in… Ah. He looked away. She was gone now, at the Refuge. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago she was there with her sunshine smile and optimism. Jeremy could use some of her optimism right now. He turned away from that side, looking at Jake’s. 

The blanket was still a mess, but this side of the fire escape had more personality at the moment. He didn’t want to pry, but this was Jake’s place. He glanced around— there was some sort of paper sticking out of the drain pipe. He tugged it out, unrolling it. One side was a poster for some circus that had been ripped in half. The other was a hauntingly realistic drawing done in charcoal pencil— Jeremy recognized the quality as the pencil he’d given Jake to take notes with. 

There were beds along the wall, with what looked like puddles of something on the ground. He could just make out three shapes in the bed— young kids, from the look of the face drawn on the kid. It almost looked like Esther. 

The next one was a similar drawing, but from the perspective of the artist with a plate of what looked like gruel on their knees, a rat peeking out from around their leg. Jeremy felt like he was going to be sick. 

There were countless drawings like this, all labeled with the same signature and a title—  _ the Refuge.  _

“The hell you think you’re doing?” A voice said from behind him, and he whirled around to see a pissed off Jake Kelly standing there. 

“That was some speech you gave.” Jeremy muttered, not answering the question. “I should say the same thing to you.”

Jake’s eyes darted to the drawings in Jeremy’s hands, and he stalked over. He was so close Jeremy could almost feel his breath, see the red bloodshot veins in his eyes. “Who the hell let you up here? And who said you could look at my drawings?”

“Specs let me up here, and I didn’t know what they were!” Jake tried grabbing the papers away, but Jeremy pulled them towards him again. “Is this really what that place is like? Three kids a bed, rats everywhere, filth— how did you—“

“It don’t matter.” Jake muttered. 

“It— of course it matters! You were trying to keep kids out of there. Oh, yeah, the great Jake Kelly, arrested for helping kids in need. Don’t think I don’t know about that.” Jeremy let Jake grab the art, rolling it up and shoving it into the drainpipe again. “Big change, huh? Going from helping kids and riskin’ your own neck for them, to giving over all of us for— for some cash? If you were so willing to go to jail for those kids, trade your life for their own health and safety, then why the hell would you turn your back on them now?”

“You don’t know what the hell happened—“ Jake whirled on him, and Jeremy took a step back as a reflex. He’d never done that before, not with Jake. He was used to other, bigger boys hitting him, pushing him around, all because he was poor and Jewish. But not Jake, usually. This time, the fury in his eyes made him falter. “I’m doin’ this to help!”

“How is this helping!” Jeremy burst out. “These kids were relying on you,  _ I was relying on you,  _ you told me we could make a change and you gave me something to believe in, and now you ruined that! You say it’s to help us, but how is leaving us to the sluggers helping anyone? There are so many kids that were trusting you, and you just made it so clear that you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself!” 

“I did it for you!” Jake said suddenly, his voice louder than Jeremy’s, even. “He said he’d put you an’ Esther in the Refuge if I didn’t call off the strike, I didn’t do it for the money.”

“We can take care of ourselves, Kelly! We do it every day, when we go home, we ain’t some charity case!” He hated this, being treated as some sort of weak kid. “You still turned your back, I don’t care who for! I should sock you right in the jaw.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jake stepped closer to him, glaring at him. “Why won’t ya? You’s makin’ it perfectly clear that you hate me!”

Jake couldn’t be more wrong about that. But Jeremy found the taller boy grabbing his wrist, putting his fist under his chin, a clear challenge. Their faces were so close, Jeremy’s face was so red, Jake’s eyes were all bloodshot and shiny and still too goddamn pretty for their own good.

Jeremy found himself grabbing Jake’s chin, crashing their lips together with reckless abandon. And for a moment, time seemed to stop. His brain filled with a kind of fog, like all his thoughts turned into smoke as soon as he tried to think them, drifting away as soon as he tried to grasp them. All he could think about was Jake’s slightly chapped lips, the last remnants of a split lip from their first fight with the cops scraping against his lips. He stumbled back a bit, feeling the railing of the fire escape at his back, his other hand grasping the cold rusty metal.

He finally processed what the hell he was doing. He could get killed for this, if Jake turned him in. He pulled away as much as he could, with their position, to see Jake, breathing hard and staring at him. Jake’s hand moved closer to his face, and he flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as if expecting a blow. But the other boy’s hand only brushed away his hair, before he snatched it back and Jeremy felt the heat move away. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Jacobs.” Jake breathed out, and Jeremy opened his eyes to see him standing and gripping the railing of the fire escape. 

“I— please don’t tell anyone, I shouldn’t have—“ He said quickly, his anger being replaced by pure panic. “I just needed to— know you didn’t cave for the money.”

“Oh, no, Jacobs, we ain’t just doing that and ignoring it! You ain’t allowed to kiss me like that and say it was ‘cause o’ the strike.” Jake turned back to him. 

“But I—“ He started, his voice choked up. His mouth felt dry, like it did when he didn’t get food for the whole weekend. “You just— you gave up on us.” 

“There was no hope for the strike. Ya know how it is. When ya fight someone, ya win when you have them down on the ground eatin’ pavement. Hard to do that when ya can’t deck an entire corrupt system.”

“That’s why we need the strike!” Jeremy stepped closer, even though he felt a bit like taking off, climbing onto the roof and leaping from rooftop to rooftop. “That’s why— why I need the strike. It gave me something to fight for, to believe in, not just some useless school that doesn’t even give me the grades I deserve ‘cause I happened to have a Bar Mitzvah.” He awkwardly leaned against the railing. “I never— I thought I just— I thought— we don’t have to talk about this.” 

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t mind.” Jake muttered. Jeremy’s head snapped up. “Now I see why the kids are callin’ ya the Walkin’ Mouth.”

Jeremy’s face went red, and he looked away, across the rooftops of the city. “I— still feel bad about that.” 

This was odd. Jeremy had thought he’d end up having a fistfight with Jake, not making out with him on a rooftop. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t queer. Was he? 

“Don’t.” Jake’s voice was softer than he’d ever heard it. 

There was silence for a moment. “I— You know… I never, um. I’ve never been in love before.” Why was he saying this? He should shut his mouth, Jake could easily turn him over to the nuthouse. “Until I, um, met you, that is.” He was stumbling over his words. He hadn’t planned on this. “You snuck up on me, y’know? No one’s ever… looked at me like you do. You actually… looked at me like a human being, and no one’s ever done that before.” He stared at his hands, at his fingers that twisted and turned around each other. 

“Course you’s human.” Jake said, blinking a bit. 

“Not to them.” He waved a hand at the city stretched below them, at the twilight in the distance. “To them, I’m just judged ‘cause I’m not a Protestant. And ‘cause I’m the one supporting my family. But here, I feel like… like I belong. And this strike— it gave me a chance to show I’m not just some little Jewish kid to be pushed around. You looked to me for the answers, and you actually followed my directions and gave me credit, and you gave me— you gave me something to believe in. Because you… you believed in me.” 

Jeremy could feel Jake’s eyes boring into his side, and he glanced over to see the look on the other boy’s face from under the brim of his hat and the messy hair. 

“You… really believe that, don’tcha?” Jake’s voice was quiet, and when Jeremy looked away, he felt a finger nudging his chin. “I feel the same way. You coulda walked out of this strike at any time, but I’d be nowhere without your brains. You trusted me, a good for nothin’ scoundrel—“

“You ain’t—“

Jake’s hand stopped him. “No, I am. I know that, it’s kinda my whole thing. But you turned that good for nothin’ scoundrel into a strike leader, and you— you took care of my kids. Which is more than I could ever ask for.” He pulled his hat off, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t wanna call off the rally. Reyes told me that if I— if I didn’t do it, he’d throw you and Es in the Refuge. An’ I couldn’t let that happen to you guys. So I took the bribe, it’s why I didn’t show up to the strike on time. Pulitzer threw me in the cella’.“ There was a flash of anger in his eyes for a moment. “But you still came to save me. Like some angel.”

Jeremy gave a tiny smile. “Didya know that angels are actually huge wheels of fire with a bunch of wings and eyes?” 

Jake looked at him with an expression of disbelief. “Ah, yeah, pull the other one.”

“No, really, I—“ He stopped himself. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” 

“Of course I do. You’re magical, Jeremiah Jacobs.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you just kiss me t’ shut me up? Because I will start talkin’ constantly if it means you shut me up like that again.”

Jeremy gave a small awkward smile, before he leaned forwards. “It was definitely a perk, but no. I didn’t. I kissed you because… I wanted to.” He looked up at Jake for a moment, before he moved a little closer.

Jake winced. “Alright, if we’s gonna do this again…” Jake pulled off Jeremy’s hat, revealing his mess of curls. “Ya hat keeps smackin’ me in the face.” 

And then there were lips on his again, and Jeremy melted, feeling that fog creeping over his brain and his eyes closing and Jake’s hand on his waist, and he didn’t even care about the strike or the Refuge for a moment. He didn’t even hear the creak of the fire escape ladder until there was a small cough beside them. 

“Is this a bad time?” 

Jake and Jeremy broke away immediately, both of their faces beet red. Jeremy tried fixing his hair, but Jake was still holding his hat, and there, in all her long-skirted, dark haired glory was Christine. 

“What are you doin’ here? Ain’t you s’posed to be in your palace, princess?” Jake’s voice made Jeremy’s head whip around. Jake’s anger was there again, and before he even thought about it, he reached over to put a hand on his arm.

“I’m here to help, I—“ Christine started, eyes flickering between Jeremy and Jake, almost desperately. “Jake, I didn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, no, you just left some things out.” He said bitterly. “Like how your father’s the person this strike is all against. You reporting back to him?”

“I’m not— my father doesn’t need me to spy for him! He has eyes everywhere.” 

“Wait, her father’s—“ Jeremy looked over at Jake. 

“Yeah, her daddy’s Pulitzer.” Jake muttered, arms folded. If looks could kill, Christine would be toppling over the railing. 

Christine frowned, her lips twisting into a pout. “I care about this strike, and about you. Which is why…” She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. “I thought of this. The strike was your idea, the rally was Jeremy’s, and now this—” She wiggled the paper. “Is going to take us all the way. Deal with it.” 

Jeremy leaned over, grabbing the paper from Christine. “The Children’s Crusade.” He read the headline, looking up at her. “What…”

“Keep reading!” She said, looking excited. She kept glancing over at Jake, as if craving for his attention, but Jake kept his eyes fixed on Jeremy as he read the type on the paper.

“For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in New York, I beg you, join us.” He read, before Jake interrupted. 

“Hey, those are my words!” He said, moving closer to Jeremy to read over his shoulder. Jeremy moved almost imperceptibly closer, as a reflex. 

Christine swallowed. “I borrowed them. With those words, you made the strike about every kid in this city who has to work for their pay. It’s not just about the newsies anymore. It’s about the factory kids, the ones who get paid the same as the newsies, and they’re just kids. You made it so that it’s an entire generation who gets to stand up and demand a place at the table.”

Jeremy looked at her, eyes wide. “If we publish this, and hand it out to all the kids under twenty-one, we— wait! I have an idea.” He looked at Jake, pausing. “Sorry, but—“ He grabbed the drawings from the drainpipe. “Publish it with one of Jake’s drawings of the Refuge, and really drive it home.”

Christine lit up, looking over the drawings. “Jeremy, you’re a genius!”

“How are we s’posed to know that you ain’t gonna use this to turn us in to your father?” Jake burst out, but Jeremy gave him a look. 

“Kids aren’t their parents.” He said shortly, but he didn’t elaborate, but assumingly, Jake got the message. “But we don’t have a free printing press, no one would let us use it. Pulitzer and Hearst have control of all the presses in the city by this point.” 

Jake groaned. “Oh. Oh, no.” He said, before laughing. 

Christine looked over at him. “What?”

“I know where there’s a printing press that no one uses.” He said, and Jeremy lit up. That was news— but he was curious as to how he knew that.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Christine said, grinning widely as she headed for the ladder again, only to be stopped by Jake. 

“Wait a minute, what’s all this about for you?” He said, looking at Christine with an odd look on his face. “I mean, you’re all— you’re literally an heiress, what could you want with a bunch a lowly street rats like us?”

Christine frowned at him. She still looked pretty when frowning, which Jeremy thought was horrifically unfair. What if Jake still liked her instead of him? They’d flirted. He could turn on Jeremy and go with Christine. Despite her father being his sworn enemy, she was better— pretty, witty, smart, and, most importantly, a girl. But Jake reached out and took his hand. 

“Because it’s the right thing to do. You’re being hurt, and mistreated, and so are so many other kids in this city, and you deserve more. You shouldn’t be judged on your wealth or your gender or your race, you should be judged on work ethic. This is the story of a lifetime, and this could change everything if we get the right laws passed.” Christine’s voice steadily grew as she spoke, getting more excited and louder. “With this improvement, who’s to say what else can be done, for all of us? The poor, the needy, women, blacks, even you guys.” She gestured to their clasped hands. “We just have to take a stand against tyranny and get changes. Welcome to the new century, where us kids take the lead!”

Jeremy stared at her, his eyes wide. Jake’s hand slipped out of his and Jeremy had to resist the urge to chase it as Jake headed for Christine. For a moment, he was afraid Jake would somehow hurt her, before he saw the other boy throw his arm around Christine’s shoulder, ruffling her curls like he did with any of his newsies. “Ya got me convinced, Plumber. Now c’mon—“ He held out his hand to Jeremy again, a grin on his face. 

“We got a strike to finish.” 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most i’ve written in a while man i just. word vomited and have no energy to read this over right now so it’s not my best but if you found any typos please tell me i’d love to fix them
> 
> if you guys would like more of this au, please leave a comment!! ur support gives me lifeblood. 
> 
> stay safe, and stay wonderful, loves!!
> 
> ~ percy


End file.
